


Piano Man

by honeyglum



Category: VA-11 Hall-A (Video Game)
Genre: Alcoholism, Canonical Character Death, F/F, Minor Character Death, and this is how i decide to use that knowledge, so jill can drink twelve cans of beer in one sitting before getting completely shitfaced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 07:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14327739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyglum/pseuds/honeyglum
Summary: A toast to a good friend.





	Piano Man

**Author's Note:**

> so last week, I purchased and finished va-11 hall-a in the span of about... a day. maybe a day and a half. and then I proceeded to get one of my really good friends into it. now we're in cyberpunk bartending hell and nobody is there to appreciate it.  
> here's to you, my dude.

_Thursday, 21 December_

Her apartment never felt colder. She felt sick to her stomach, bile rising up in her throat. _She's dead._ Her eyes stung with tears, her shoulders trembling, a sob caught in her throat. _She died last Saturday._ She wanted to vomit. She felt so, so disgusted at herself. It was her fault her ex-girlfriend died. If only she stayed, if only she didn't fight with her, if only she tried to --

_If only what?_

Her hand reached for the cases of beer stashed in the corner of her apartment, and she opened the first can with a loud _crack._ Her liver implant made it increasingly difficult to get drunk, leading to an odd form of a binge-drinking habit. She couldn't quite remember the last time she got completely shitfaced, and figured, with a heavy heart, that there was a first time for everything.

 _She started complaining about chest pains not long after you left._ She tipped her chin back, and the can was emptied in seconds. She reached for another one. _Crack._

Fore looked at her and curled up on the kotatsu, his purr a soft rumble in the otherwise silent apartment. It was a small reassurance, but it did nothing to calm the rising panic in her chest. _Crack._ She looked back at the clock on the wall. Since when was it two in the morning? She looked down at the beer in her hand. She just had three cans. That was nothing. She was fine. She could handle this.

_My sister was left to suffer her disease alone while you were all merry here, mixing drinks and chatting!_

God _fucking_ dammit. _Crack_. Jill, for the most part, had to ask why her life was falling apart at the seams. VA-11 Hall-A was about to be shut down. Her ex-girlfriend was dead, and it was arguably her fault. She barely had any money to pay rent, and she was about to be evicted. _Crack._ She looked at the ground with a shaky sigh. She would have to clean up all of this later. She reached for her phone, praying for one distraction.

_Was all the talk about getting your freedom worth it, Jill?_

_Incoming call from Best Boss._

Jill had told Dana she wanted time alone. She said she needed to be by herself to get her thoughts in order so she could process what happened earlier. She said that, she knew she did, but Dana was still going out of her way to make sure she was alright. Dana was still checking up on her, trying to protect her. _I consider you one of my best friends,_ she had once said, while they were on Jill's balcony. That, Jill reasoned, was why Dana tried so hard. _Crack._ She sighed, and lifted her phone to her ear. 

"Hello?"

_"Jill, are you okay?"_

"I'm... I'm not really sure. Boss --"

_"Just call me Dana. Listen, I'm driving over to your apartment. Don't do anything funny."_

"Dana --"

 _"And I'm stopping by for some fast food. I know you need it."_ The call ended with that, and Jill lowered the phone with a sigh. She knew, at the very least, she should've put a futon out for Dana, but couldn't bring herself to get to her feet. She couldn't bring herself to even move. She rested her head against the glass door leading to the balcony, and shut her eyes. A dull headache formed at the back of her head, her temples throbbing. Her phone buzzed again.

_Best Boss - 02:19_  
_Open the door._

This was the second time that Dana had been in her apartment (Jill hoped that she remembered to bring her jacket this time, but wouldn't be mad if she ended up borrowing that oversized hoodie again). She rested a large paper sack on the table, already searching for the carton of fries. Jill, with her seventh beer in hand, reached for a burger. There was a moment of silence, and Dana finally spoke, her gaze focused on the fries before her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

A sigh. "I really don't even know." She bit into the sandwich. Though she wouldn't say it, she was honestly grateful that Dana stopped by, especially with food. She hadn't eaten since the previous morning, and her stomach was about to riot. "It's just..." God, since when was her can empty? _Crack._ "I haven't spoken to Lenore in like, what, three years? Yeah, I think it's been three years. Then the next thing I know, her sister walks into VA-11 Hall-A, telling me she's dead and it's my fault!"

"Yeah, I..." Dana paused, and dipped a fry into the ketchup. "I kind of heard a good portion of that argument. You two got pretty loud."

"Sorry --"

She waved her hand. "Don't worry about it. The walls in that place are paper-thin anyway. I practically hear everything." She shoved the fry in her mouth. "So, what do you think? Do you think it was your fault?"

"I didn't even know she was sick. She never said a word that she had nanomachine rejection. I'm not going to pretend I'm an expert on it, but I really don't think I killed her. Sure, there might've been a correlation between us breaking up and her chest pains coming back, but... I don't think I'm the cause of her dying." She paused, and sipped her beer. Empty. _Crack._

A frown crossed Dana's face. "How many beers have you had since you got home?"

She couldn't remember.

"Well, don't push yourself. I know you've got an implant, but take it easy on yourself."

Her head was starting to feel fuzzy. She didn't respond, and continued to eat. Another glance in the bag showed that Dana had bought enough food for nearly four people. She wondered, for a brief moment, exactly how much money Dana had (she wouldn't admit it, but her boss's 'pocket change' has kept her bills paid for a long time). "What do you think?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think it was my fault?"

She shook her head, and paused, chewing another fry. "Jill, if you've got nanomachine rejection, and you don't go through the process to become a cat boomer as an infant, you're pretty much fucked. I can only think of a handful of people who've actually survived, and some of those ended up catching the Tokyo flu and dying from that. If I can be blunt, Lenore was dead the moment she decided to keep this to herself."

It hurt to hear. It hurt _so much_ to hear, but Dana was right. She sighed. _Crack._ The heartache lessened, if only by a little bit.

"Jill? You good?"

Was she always this tired? She tried to stifle a yawn.

"Let's go to bed, Jill. You can eat the leftovers for tomorrow."

She wasn't surprised to find out Dana was strong enough to carry her. She shut her eyes, willing the incoming migraine to go away, and stayed still, with the taller woman laying beside her. "Dana?" Her voice was slurred.

"Relax. I'm just keeping you company." She reached her mechanical arm over in an odd sort of hug, and Jill nearly shivered at the cold metal.

She wasn't exactly complaining, though.


End file.
